Take my voice and I will give you even more
by Ayingott
Summary: Let the world fall and the fires burn – G is Yamamoto's heaven, his island in the middle of an endless ocean. Yamamoto/G, AU, for Kay.


**Disclaimer: Yamamoto Takeshi and G do not belong to me.**

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**Take my voice and I will give you even more.**

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A soft, red silk bow ties them together. The color has faded out at places and there are small holes in it, torn and pulled open – some on accident and some burned there by flames of their fights. But it still stands strong, tying their wrists to one another, connecting two fates that seem too different to the eye and much too difficult to work out.

It's soft, barely there at times and as strong as the blade of Yamamoto's sword. It winds through the thorns of their relationship, swift as G's bow and it soothes out the cracks that form when one of them says too much or does too little. It's a lifeline of sorts, a reason for them to stay there, in the middle of the desert, and try again and again.

They are connected, they are to be, they are two in love.

…

G steps through the sand, his feet sinking deeper with every second step and the sun hot against his skin. But he doesn't stop. There is a goal for him, a reason why he follows the bow tied to his wrist. It leads him further into the heart of the desert, where Yamamoto had gone to.

It's a game or hide and seek for them this time.

His breath seems to disappear into the nothingness before him, the sand blazing hot against the tender skin of his feet. But he keeps on walking with a wide smile on his face, a hope in his chest and a conviction that the one on the other side of this bow will wait for him with open arms and a loud 'I love you' on his lips.

So G keeps on walking, no longer sinking into the sand and holds on tighter to the red and worn bow that grows hotter with each step.

…

Yamamoto stands still. He breathes slowly, brown eyes watching the horizon before him, each sway and roll of it as the sun seems to melt it. There is no wind, no water in this land of no life. Only sand and sun and the red bow tied tightly around his wrist, so tight that it seems to mold together with his skin and become one.

But he knows that the thing is something that he and G share. That is a _something _that keeps them close, unable to truly break apart and leave each other out here to die. It's the lifeline of a desert, the camel that quenches their thirst. They are one with it and broken and lost without it.

So he waits and watches the horizon. G should be here soon, he simply knows by the way the bow twists and slides in the sand. He can't wait, his whole body screams for the redhead in its need. Excitement boils his blood, makes his fingers twitch with impatience. Soon. Soon they will meet yet again and there will be heaven in the middle of this wasteland.

…

It's their world. The world that belongs only to them alone and no one else. It may be empty and dead, void of water and shade and trees but they don't need those things. All they need is each other and soft, whispered nothings that mingle with the wind and seep into their minds.

Who needs food and water when you can hold your lover's arm all day long and marvel its softness, its gentleness? Who needs shade when you can lean against warm skin and _feel_ the love, the heavy weight of the other's heartbeat and know that you are not alone in this world?

They need nothing of the world beyond theirs. They just need each other and the bow that ties them together, the core of this world, of them. Then again, maybe they don't need it after all?

…

G's eyes widen and he stops in his walk through the sand.

He can see him! He can see Yamamoto, out there in the nothingness and bathed in the rays of the boiling sun above them. His form is small, blurry and changes every time that G blinks but that is him – that is Yamamoto, G feels it. His heart knows it, his mind, his body and soul know it, feel it.

The red bow in his hand and around his wrist burns as if on fire already. The skin on his wrist is red and sensitive, just as hot as the bow and the pain is deep. But G doesn't feel it; he has no time for it. He has no time since his other half is there, almost in his reach, so close already.

With a final deep breath G starts to run. His feet make no noise against the sand and he doesn't sink in it anymore. It's as if he were flying, moving fast towards the man that he loved more than his life and could not live without. There are wings on his back, invisible and light, and they let G run as fast as the winds that don't exist here.

…

He cannot stand in place anymore. Yamamoto cannot follow the rules of this game no more; he breaks into a run as well when the horizon parts and he sees G. Red hair serve as a marker in the waves of the melting sand and sky and he runs toward it, laughter on his lips.

The red bow tears at places and winds together at some, but it still doesn't break. It grows shorter with every step that Yamamoto takes, with every ragged breath that leaves past his lips and melts together with the sky. There is a love that threatens to break loose and sink them both in his heart and Yamamoto can't find any reason to think of it as a bad thing.

Let the world fall and the fires burn – G is his heaven, his island in the middle of an endless ocean.

…

G's feet no longer touch the hot sand and Yamamoto's heart no longer seems to hold more that it possibly can. It's like the flow of time has been stopped just for the two of them.

Yamamoto holds G close, taking in the other's smell, his warmth that seems hotter than the sun. G has his hands wrapped around his lover's neck and legs around waist, holding on for dear life, as if letting go meant death and even more than that. They don't want to let go, not when they have just found each other.

They pull apart, smiles on their lips and love in their eyes. G whispers something that is only for Yamamoto's ears to hear and leans down, bringing their lips together. Their kiss is like a breath of fresh air, a fire that cannot burn and yet sets their bodies on fire.

Fingers tangle in Yamamoto's hair, pulling and sliding through, causing shivers to run down the man's back. Fingers scratch G's bare back until small beads or red, red blood side down the wet and heated skin. They cannot stop, cannot pull away from each other. They are one, bound by the fate and so much more.

Water washes against Yamamoto's ankles, cold as ice. He doesn't notice it. Not when there is a fire in his eyes and whispered love in his ears. The bow is no longer around their wrists; it floats in the water, sinking deeper slowly.

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**A/N: So my good friend Kay has birthday today! This is my present to her, something that I suddenly got inspiration to write with no previous ideas or plans. I hope she likes it and that she has a happy birthday!**

**Ayingott out.**


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